The Thief of Always

IX

What Do You Dream?

Harvey didn't mention what had happened at the lake to anyone-not even Lulu-in part because he felt stupid for falling in and in part because the House tried so hard to please him in the days that followed that he almost forgot about the accident entirely. That very night, in fact, he found a piece of colored string with his name tag on it at the base of the Christmas tree, and followed it through the House to find a new bike-even more splendid than the one he'd lost two years before-waiting for him.

But that was just the first of many fine surprises the Holiday House sprang in quick succession. One morning, for instance, Wendell and Harvey climbed up into the tree house to discover that the branches around it were swarming with parrots and monkeys. Another day, in the middle of Thanksgiving dinner, Mrs. Griffin called them through into the living room, where the flames of the fire had taken on the shapes of dragons and heroes, and were doing fiery battle in the grate. And in the heat of one lazy afternoon, Harvey was wakened from a doze by a chorus of shouts and found a troupe of mechanical acrobats performing clockwork-defying feats on the lawn.

The greatest surprise, however, began with the appearance of one of Rictus's siblings.

"My name is Jive," he said, stepping out of the early evening murk at the top of the stairs. Every muscle in his body seemed to be in motion: tics, jigs and jitterings that had wasted him away until he barely cast a shadow. Even his hair, which was a mass of oiled curls, seemed to hear some crazed rhythm. It writhed on his scalp in a knotted frenzy.

"Brother Rictus sent me along to see how you're doin'," he said, his tones succulent.

"I'm doing fine," Harvey replied. "Did you say Brother Rictus?"

"We're from the same brood, loosely speaking," Jive said. "I hope you call your family now and then."

"Yep" said Harvey. "I called them yesterday."

"Are they missin' you?"

"Didn't sound like it"

"Are you missin' them?"

Harvey shrugged. "Not really," he said.

(This wasn't strictly true-he had his homesick days-but he knew if he went back home he'd be in school the day after, and wishing he'd stayed in the Holiday House a while longer,)

"You're going to make the most of bein' here then?" said Jive, practicing a weird little dance step up and down the stairs.

"Yeah," said Harvey. "I just want to have fun."

"Who doesn't?" Jive grinned, "who doesn't?" He sidled up to Harvey, and whispered: "Speakin' of fun..."

"What?'' said Harvey.

"You never did get Wendell back for that trick of his."

"No, I didn't," said Harvey.

"Why the heck not?"

"I could never think of a way."

"Oh I'm sure we could cook something up between the two of us," Jive replied mischievously.

"It has to be something he'll never think of," Harvey said.

"That shouldn't be difficult," said Jive. "Tell me, what's your favorite monster?"

Harvey didn't have to think hard about that. "A vampire," he said with a grin. "I found this great mask-"

"Masks are a good beginning," Jive said, "but vampires need to swoop out of the mist " he spread his arms, curling his long fingers like the claws of some eye-gouging beast "-swoop down, snatch up their prey, then rise up again, up against the moon. I can see it now."

"So can I," said Harvey. "But I'm not a bat."

"So?"

"So how do I swoop?"

"Ah," said Jive. "We'll have Marr work on that for us. After all, what's a Halloween without a transformation or two?" He consulted the grandfather clock on the landing. "We've still got time to do it tonight. You go down and tell Wendell you'll meet him outside. I'll go up on to the roof and find Marr. You meet us up there."

"I've never been up on the roof."

"There's a door on the top landing. I'll see you up there in a few minutes."

"I'll have to get my mask an' coat an' stuff."

"You won't need a mask tonight," Jive said, "trust me. Now you hurry up. Time's a-wastin'."

It took Harvey only a minute or two to tell Wendell to go on ahead. He was sure Wendell suspected something, and was probably preparing some counterattack, but Harvey knew he and Jive had something up their sleeves even Wendell-expert on shock tactics though he was-couldn't anticipate. With the first part of the plan laid he hurried upstairs again, found the door Jive had mentioned, and climbed up onto the roof.

Heights had never bothered him; he liked to be up above the world looking down on it.

"Over here!" Jive called to him, and Harvey took off along the narrow walkways and up the steep roofs to where his fellow conspirator stood.

"Sure-footed!" Jive observed.

"No problem."

"How 'bout flyin'?" said a third voice, as its owner stepped from the shadows of a chimney.

"This is Marr," Jive said. "Another of our little family."

Unlike Jive who looked nimble enough to walk on the eaves if the whim took him, Marr seemed to have slug blood in her somewhere. Harvey almost expected to see her fingers leave silver trails on the brick she touched, or see soft horns appear from her balding head. She was grossly fat, her flesh barely clinging to her bones. Wherever it could-around her mouth and eyes, at her neck and wrists-it collapsed in clammy folds. She reached out and poked Harvey.

"I said: what 'bout flyin'?"

"What about it?" Harvey said, pushing her hand away.

"Done much?"

"I flew to Florida once."

"She doesn't mean in a plane," Jive told him.

"Oh..."

"In dreams maybe?" said Mart.

"Oh yeah, I dream about flying."

"That's good," Marr replied, grinning with satisfaction. She had not a single tooth in her mouth.

Harvey stared at the empty maw in disgust.

"You're wondering where they've gone, aren't you?" she said to Harvey. "Go on. Admit it."

Harvey shrugged. "Well yes. I am."

"Carna took them, the thieving brute. I had fine teeth. Beautiful teeth."

"Who's Carna?" Harvey wanted to know.

"Never mind," Jive said, hushing Marr before she could reply. "Get to it or he'll miss the moment."

Marr muttered something beneath her breath, then said: "Come to me, boy," extending her arms in Harvey's direction. Her touch was icy.

"Feels weird, huh?" said Jive, as Mares fingers floated over his face, brushing it here and there. "Don't worry. She knows what she's doin'."

"And what's that?"

"Changin' you."

"Into what?"

"You tell her," Jive said. "It won't last long, so enjoy it. Go on, tell her about being a vampire."

"That's what I want Wendell to see," Harvey said.

"A vampire..." Marr said softly, her fingers pressing harder against his skin.

"Yeah, I want to have fangs, like a wolf, and a red throat, and white skin, like I've been dead for a thousand years."

"Two thousand!" said Jive.

"Ten thousand!" said Harvey, beginning to enjoy the game. "And crazy eyes, that can see in the dark, and pointy ears, like a bat's ears-"

"Wait up!" Marr said. "I've got to get all this right."

Her fingers were working hard upon him now, as though his flesh was clay, and she was molding it. His face was tingling, and he wanted to reach up and touch it, but he was afraid of spoiling her handiwork.

"And there's got to be fur," Jive observed. "Sleek, black fur on his neck-"

Mares hands dabbled at his throat, and he felt fur sprouting where she'd touched him.

"-and the wings!" Harvey said. "Don't forget the wings!

"Never!" said Jive.

"Spread your arms, boy," Marr told him.

He did so, and she ran her hands along them, smiling now.

"It's good," she said. "It's good."

He looked down at himself. To his astonishment he found his fingers were gnarled and sharp, and leathery flaps were hanging from his arms. The wind gusted against them, threatening to carry him off the roof then and there.

"You know you're playin' a dangerous game, don't you?" Marr said as she stood back to admire her handiwork. "You'll either break your head or scare the life out of your friend Wendell. Or both."

"He won't fall, woman!" Jive said. "He's got the knack of this. I can tell just by looking at him." He peered at Harvey with his squinty eyes. "Wouldn't be surprised if you weren't a vampire in another life, boy," he said.

"Vampires don't have other lives," Harvey said, the words more difficult to say with a mouthful of fangs. "They live forever."

"That's right," said Jive, snapping his fingers. "So they do! So they do!"

"Well, I'm finished," said Marr. "You can get goin', boy."

The wind came gusting again, and if Jive hadn't been holding onto him as they walked the edge of the roof, Harvey would surely have been carried away.

"There's your friend," Jive whispered, pointing down into the shadows.

Much to his amazement Harvey found that he could see Wendell quite clearly, even though it was pitch dark in the thicket. He could hear him too: every little breath, every beat of his heart.

"This is it," Jive hissed, putting his hand on Harvey's back.

"What do I do?" Harvey said. "Do I flap or what?"

"Jump!" Jive said. "The wind'll take care of the rest. Either the wind or gravity."

And with that, he shoved Harvey off the edge of the roof and into the empty air.